I am sitting here at the computer
unable to compute an idea
the light bulb is dim
so the thoughts are confined within
I apologize to those who follow me
I apologize for being a gnome to giants
I wish to buy property, without playing Monopoly
I wish to live lavish, but I have to be established
I sit at this computer, pondering life
I sit at this computer, pondering why I write
I sit at this computer, pondering the afterlife
can I obtain this paradise after life?
sometimes I think that it's fabricated depression
depressed because I have problems expressing
the reason I can't write, or the reason why I'm destined
the reason I feel alone, or the reason I seek affection
maybe success is based on CD sales or net hits
people want to try it for free before the trial period ends
I feel like the CD is distributed by Netflix
This is the day that I conquer this myth
writer's block is not an obstacle that can hamper this gift
the flow used to be fluid, now it seems useless
stalled like an inoperable Porta-potty or a dried up body of water with no movement
Untitled Poetry 7.20.09
1 comments:
Post Yours!
Read Comment Policy ▼
PLEASE NOTE:
We have Zero Tolerance to Spam. Chessy Comments and Comments with Links will be deleted immediately upon our review.
PLEASE NOTE:
We have Zero Tolerance to Spam. Chessy Comments and Comments with Links will be deleted immediately upon our review.
We have Zero Tolerance to Spam. Chessy Comments and Comments with Links will be deleted immediately upon our review.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Eek! Get the TheraFlu. You've still got it, fam. BusBoys & Poets needs joints like this!
ReplyDeleteS.